


Essence

by DontTrustLoserCandy



Series: The Essence of Love [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, M/M, low key - Freeform, seriously, set somewhere after episode 9, very low key soulmate au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 04:27:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8696563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontTrustLoserCandy/pseuds/DontTrustLoserCandy
Summary: Yuuri wakes up with a soft "Victor" wrapped in his throat.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Literally this fic doesn't make sense without, like, 10k of context. I'm crying.  
> anyways!!! Late to the party but here to party anyways. Happy birth Yuuri!  
> Might write more for this AU later, since soulmate aus have generally decided that my brain makes for a perfect camping ground. Feel free to comment or ask if this makes no sense whatsoever to you, and I'll try to explain! <33  
> (shoutout to neko for the name of the fic and the AU btw! you're a lifesaver jfc)
> 
> (Some context: soulmate au where people get bursts of their soulmate's "essence" on their birthday. When a person is in their twenties (and they already know the person in question), they might wake up knowing who their soulmate is.)

 

Yuuri wakes up with a soft "Victor" wrapped in the back of his throat, and enjoys the feeling for a moment before reality starts to tickle in. He can't remember dreaming with the taller man, but imagining arms around his chest and a head on his shoulder is grounding in itself. The lack of them in the reality is disheartening, a deceptively smooth coldness dripping into his chest like sludge that makes him curl a little tighter in his blankets.

Then the reason to his soft melancholy sluggishly drags its way back to his mind, and he feels his chest hollowing out despite his best efforts.

Victor, Victor, Victor in Japan taking care of Maccachin and fussing over the sick animal to the point Yuuri's phone memory is now dedicated a thirty percent to photos of Maccachin in different states of consciousness and usually drapped over Victor, Yuuri's bed or both. 

It's a hilarious reversal, it dawns on him with dry humor, that Victor Nikiforov is in Japan while he himself is still in Russia. It makes him snort softly, hands wrapping around his phone so he can check his messages and, predictably, scroll down the new pile of Maccachin pictures Victor has sent him. 

He stays huddled in bed, room slightly chillier than comfortable (and he later notices the window he forgot to close before going to sleep and winces), and only lets his hands and half of his face surface as he proceeds to answer to Victor's barrage of heart and dog emojis with some of his own. 

Victor's surprise at him being awake (which is slightly insulting, since it's only five am in Moscow) is translated into a long string of "!!!!!!!", and Yuuri chuckles as Victor begins to write something. He seems to change his mind halfway through, notification disappearing for a minute, and Yuuri's about to put down the phone and go back sleep (the warm sheets are tempting) when he receives a picture.

Yuuri smiles, drinking in Victor's soft smile as he scratches the fluffy head propped on his lap, and in a burst of sleepy confidence he snaps a photo of himself and sends it in answer. Victor's answer is more hearts and exclamation marks, followed by a smiling kaomoji with a heart shaped mouth, and Yuuri stretches and rests his head on the pillow with a contented sigh.

The aches are there, in his feet and his muscles and the curve of his back, but victory is sweeter on his tongue and, more importantly, _Victor_ is a comfortable warmth in his soul. He misses his physical presence, taking comfort in the fact that he'll soon go back to Japan to rest until the Finals, but Victor's effusiveness makes it hard to truly miss his presence. A pang on his phone alerting him of a new message, and Yuuri lifts up the screen already knowing who it is. More hearts, accompanied by a short video of Maccachin, and Yuuri hits play and smiles through the whole video.

 

 

 

'Victor' is the first word in his brain that day, but it's not the first time he's waken up to the thought of his (idol, coach, best friend, _lover_ ) Victor. Like breathing, his name escapes Yuuri's lips with ease, with fondness, with clear adoration when their eyes are locked and hands grasp at each other to ground them down, to invite the other to float away with them in a haze of happiness and pleasure.

Yuuri is a man in love. Utterly, deeply, helplessly, first as a child swept in the admiration and hero crush borne from watching a child of beauty and strength themselves become human, a fae dancing amongst men, and then caught and netted by the love of a man, flawed and difficult and  _human_ to its very bones. A wild but shy thing, is his love, alive and lively and burning the brightest when dedicated to his beloved.

(It makes sense then, his soul would be the same.)

Yuri wakes up that day to Victor's name in his tongue, soft and warm and searching, momentarily confused until he remembers Victor isn't there this morning. He doesn't think about it twice, doesn't notice the date until much later, when Victor (feat Maccachin's bubbly barking) sings him happy birthday in Russian despite how he'd insisted he'd celebrate it when he got home.

It's not important, at the time, and an afterthought afterwards.

Overall, it just fills him with the familiar warmth he's long associated with Victor.

 

 

 

(It's not until Victor's birthday, and Victor subsequently vaulting off the bed while crying out Yuuri's name near ecstatic, that everything clicks.

_Oh_ , he thinks.

Oh. 

_I love you_ , is what he says.)


End file.
